The Ride Home
by dixielou
Summary: A Holmes Russell conversation taking place shortly after the infamous dock scene.


This story takes place after the infamous Dock scene at the end of Monstrous Regiment of Women. Criticisms are welcome. This is my first ever writing attempt outside of school reports 10 yrs ago. I'm sure I have much to learn. And of course - Sherlock Holmes and Mary Russell are not mine - they appear courtesy of Laurie R. King and Arthur Conan Doyle.

The Ride Home

After the handshake solidifying our engagement, I thought it best to be on our way to dry clothing and the almost aforementioned inoculations. Holmes was looking a bit worse for wear and as much as I would have liked to explore this new facet of our relationship, other more pressing needs asserted themselves. Once the necessities of a doctor's care, food, rest, and the ubiquitous Scotland yard briefing were taken care of, Holmes and I were free to return to Sussex. It was not until we were safely tucked away into our private railcar compartment, with the scenery of England flying by the window, that we were again alone with each other. 

The silence of the car was broken only by the clacking of the rails. Holmes and I were used to silence in each other's company and normally did not feel the need to fill it with unnecessary speech. This was an altogether different silence though - one brought about by uncertainty and the lack of familiar footing in the changing landscape of our relationship. 

I, at least, was sure of my feelings for this man sitting across from me, although they did tend to surprise me in their intensity. I was, for lack of a better word, a practical person, and did not readily liken myself to some of the overly emotional women with whom I had come into contact during my studies at Oxford. Shaped in part, no doubt, by the loss of my family several years ago and subsequent ill-treatment by my aunt, I carefully guarded the softer of emotions and in fact, often lived in self denial of their existence. Anger, frustration, irritation - these I had no qualms displaying and often used them as my outlet. This is not to say that I am not a woman of passions - I am - but rarely had they strayed from my studies to include the world of men. All this had changed in recent weeks. The defenses I had built up crumbled and the feelings I had tamped down surged into existence during my imprisonment in the cellar of a country home in Essex. When Holmes rescued me from my captors, all thoughts of denial and pretense had succumbed to the realization that I loved him and desired a relationship with him that was no less than marriage and all that it encompassed. I had not intended to telegraph that so emphatically on the docks, but the thought that he could have been lost to me forever drove all rational action from me. Our engagement had been somewhat unconventionally arrived at from his subsequent actions and response to my kiss. At the time, Holmes had been most convincing but now as I studied his fixed profile staring steadily out the window, I wondered if he regretted the scene at the dock. 

I decided that I had spent enough time running from uncomfortable situations and as I truly loved this man, I would face this one head on - or rather side by side. Taking a deep breath, I walked somewhat unsteadily (not entirely due to the motion of the car) to take the seat next to Holmes. I am certain he noticed my movement, but he gave no outward sign. Since the English countryside was so obviously more intriguing than his traveling partner, I decided to force the issue. I reached over and took his hand in mine. Immediately I felt him stiffen, relax slightly, and then turn slowly to look at me. His face was expressionless and his grey eyes a mystery. Thankfully, he did not remove his hand from mine as I think my courage might have failed me at that point. 

"Well, Holmes," I declared, "You did warn me about a certain lack of affection, but I did hope you might at least acknowledge your fiancee's presence." At the word "fiancee", I was rewarded with an almost imperceptible flinch - one that made my spine run cold, but at least confirmed the source of his aloofness. 

"Russell," he breathed out, "I feel we may have much to discuss, but I had hoped to wait until later. However, as we seem to be afforded as much privacy here as we would on the farm, and since it would be best to have this discussion before we see Mrs. Hudson, perhaps we should begin." He gave my hand a slight squeeze and withdrew his own. 

"Holmes - please tell me that you do not regret yesterday. I must remind you that it would be very ungentlemanly of you to retract a proposal," I said lightly, trying not to give evidence of my increasing fear.

Regardless of how I tried to hide my trepidation, Holmes sensed it and flashed me a quick half smile no doubt meant to be reassuring. It did not have the desired effect, but his next words, and the intensity of his eyes as he gazed into mine somewhat calmed me.

"Russell, please do not think that I would ever regret our actions on the dock, or doubt the sincerity of my proposal. I am afraid, however, that I have been somewhat selfish and that I need to be more concerned for your welfare. I have been thinking only of what I want rather than what would be best in the long term future for you."

"Holmes," I warned, "I don't think that I like where you are going with this. Remember that I am a woman fully capable of determining what I want from life and making my own decisions."

"I do not doubt that Russ, but you must listen to me. Do not interrupt, I have to say this. I am not a young man - I'm not even a middle-aged man. I am three times your age. The likelihood that you will be widowed at a young age is very high. By marrying me, you would deprive yourself of a life-long relationship with someone else. At best, I could give you twenty to thirty years and of what use will I be to you the last ten or so. I do not wish you to spend the better part of your life unfairly coupled with an old and useless man. No, as much as you mean to me, it is far better that you find someone more suitable than myself for marriage. Someday, you will see that I am right."

"I see," I said calmly and with great precision (a sure sign to any who know me that I am truly angered). "Well I must thank you for figuring my life out so handily. And where is this miraculous younger version of yourself with whom I am supposed to marry and live happily ever after? What? You haven't taken the liberty to have picked out the gentleman yourself? I assumed you would make that decision for me as well. I am aware of the difference in our ages and how it makes absolutely no difference in my choice of you as my husband. Do you think I could move on to someone else so easily, or for that matter at all? Could you?" I paused long enough for Holmes to give a quick shake of his head and turn to look out the window. 

"Holmes," I said softly, with enough emotion in my voice to cause his gaze to once again meet mine. "I think perhaps this is my fault. I have not verbalized how deep my feelings are for you. Another man is not an option. I could never find anyone who would be your equal and I would not accept less. I may not say this often, but I love you, Sherlock Holmes, with all that is in me. If you will not marry me, then I will marry no one. It is either life as a future widow who can look back on her marriage treasuring the time spent with the man she loved, or a spinster with nothing but regrets." 

At this, Holmes lowered his head quickly and stared at the floor, but not before I saw the glint of unshed tears in his eyes. This I had not expected and it shook me to the core. Tears of my own threatened but I did not allow them to spill over. Love him though I did, I would not beg or use my tears to coerce him into marriage. We sat there quietly for some time. When he did speak, it was with a voice raw and hoarse with emotion and still he did not look at me. 

"You are correct, I did not realize the depths of your emotions - your love - for me. There is still one other point which we must discuss. You are a young woman and deserve a family - children - if you so desire them. I - I am not sure that I could bring another child into this world, and I would not wish to stand between you and the children you might have if you wanted them."

I was truly shocked by his words for I must admit, the thought of children was so far removed from my day to day life that I had not even considered that aspect. As I thought over what he said, I'm afraid I quite misinterpreted his meaning. While I did not consider him old, he was after all, sixty, and I was quite out of my realm of experience in this area. 

"Holmes, I - I had no idea. It doesn't matter. I can live without that - I have so far," I stammered feeling a blush burn over my face. 

"Russell," he said with some asperity, "I believe I am fully capable of the physical aspects of married life. I was simply referring to my lack of success at my previous experience in the realm of fatherhood and that I did not have the desire to repeat it. I do believe the world would consider itself fortunate if it were not again blessed with my progeny. I have no doubt, on the other hand, that you would be a success at anything you turned your hand to - including motherhood. I, though, have no desire to spoil your parental efforts with my obviously ineffectual skills. If children are a desire of yours, I would suggest you choose someone more suited for the position of father."

I considered my next words with care. "I do not think you should base your potential as a father on your previous experience. You did not even know you had a son until he had reached an age beyond which you would have had any influence on his character. Irene did you and your son a great disservice when she denied you the opportunity of participating in Ian's life. I have no doubt that you would have done a commendable job of raising Ian had you been given the chance from the beginning. Before I share my personal views on children, I must know - if I say that I want children - your children - will you walk away from this relationship?"

At this, he met my eyes and took my hand. "At one time, I thought that I could. I see now that it would be hopeless. I could no more walk away from you than I could walk away from myself. You are a part of me. While I have no personal need to add children to my life, I will if you want them." To my astonishment, Holmes slipped off the rail car bench and went down on one knee in front of me, still clasping my hand in his. "I don't think I did this properly the first time. Mary Judith Russell, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" 

I felt as though all the pieces of my life were falling into place, but I wasn't going to let him off quite that easily. I leaned down and whispered, "Say it, Holmes. There are times a woman needs to hear it."

His gaze never faltered, but he swallowed and in a voice thick with emotion said "I love you Russ, with all my heart." 

Neither one of us said anything for quite some time as we were otherwise occupied. When we broke apart reluctantly to catch our breath, I whispered into his ear. "Obviously, I accept your proposal - again. And by the way, I don't think we have much room in our lives for a child, nor do I feel the need to have one. I do, however, reserve the right to change my mind." 

I felt rather than saw his smile as he hugged me and said agreeably, "As you wish Mrs. Holmes, as you wish." I hugged him back and smiled as well. "One last detail, about that whole Mrs. Holmes thing...."

The End - or rather The Beginning. 


End file.
